One Saturday Night
by Dragon Fangs and Griffin Claws
Summary: As the after Grindelwald wizard world starts to rebuild, orders start going out for repopulation and arranged marriage. Stuck in the middle of one is Tom Riddle. See his journey to escape the union and his drastic last resort... the start of Voldemort.
1. The Annoyance

"Mister Riddle, please. Surely you can't-"

"I can and I do."

Tom sighed to himself as the small wizard rushed around him like a Cactus Pixie. Or a gnat. He'd shown up somewhere around three in the morning crowing about some sort of marriage act to repopulate the wizard community after Grindelwald. Now it was five, and the Ministry Official still hadn't caught the hint that he was in no mood to be trifled with.

So far he'd tried purposefully setting off several security hexes, a half dozen sedating charms, and even a cupboard door. The annoying little man had either been too short to be hit or had labeled it as 'standard security procedures' and 'good practice'.

He was considering reaching for a cursed dagger from one of the cases and doing away with him, but he could send out an alarm any time.

So he had to be more crafty about how to dispose of the pest. His three miserly hours of sleep didn't contribute much to his craft, but by Salazar's name, he was _Tom Marvelo Riddle_- he wouldn't be beaten by some hyperactive little titch of a wizard.

He spotted something on the wall- a long, spindly instrument of less than noble history. It was a grimble- a burglar trap that did a bit more than catch the crook. He walked just out of its range, and like a moth to a flame, the little man followed. He, unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on you) knew nothing of the magic, and fell right into the trap.

In all of about five seconds, a half dozen ebony arms lashed out and grabbed at the wizard, covering his head completely. It then let go of the now unconscious man, leaving several bruises and patches once covered in skin. Tom, with a smirk, cast a feather light charm and sent the body into the street and several doors down.

But, he knew that this wouldn't be the end of it- the ministry was far too persistent to be stopped by the disarming of one of their members. Privacy was a foreign idea to them still. Hopefully that'd change... but he still had this blasted marriage law to deal with. It wasn't like he wasn't interested in girls- what young man wasn't- but the way his parents had left me had left a very bad taste in his mouth in regarding unions or children.

But it wasn't like he had power over it, by any means. After all, he wasn't an overlord of any kind...


	2. The Form

The next day, Tom went through his normal routine of magically dusting and readying the store. He was, however, interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Muttering several choice curses under his breath that turned the cash register a rather gaudy chartreuse, he left his work to meet the visitor.

Along the way, he went through the steps to assume the persona of an average store clerk. Softer steps, more slumped posture, and a more open expression. Body language always spoke louder than words, and a kind face was one not to be questioned.

There was yet another ministry official at the entrance; a tall, lanky man wearing grunt level colors. He was holding the same letter as the wizard from the day before, except this one had the red tinge of something recently affected by a remembrance charm.

He quickly covered up his annoyance- the ministry was famous for retaliating with those who didn't cooperate, and he didn't need an investigation. Goodness knew that his record wasn't as spotless as it looked.

"Mister Riddle?"

"Yes. If you're looking to buy something, the store isn't open until ten thirty."

"Strictly ministry business. You were supposed to have received a notice from us last night."

"Oh?"

"Yes, from one-" he stopped to read a piece of paper in his fist- "Harold Knottingway."

"Didn't have anyone by last night. I closed up shop early, got a drink from the Leaky Cauldron, and went to bed. Maybe he came after I left."

_There, perfectly seamless story, and a 'witness' to boot. Jared knows the drill well enough, and nobody doubts the night shift bar tender. The man can be handy sometimes._

"Actually, I think he got the wrong address- somebody found him sleeping like a log over under Rupert's apothecary. Man has a bit of trouble with addresses- tried to get a hold of Leo to tell him what Lucius had done to some muggle girl's hair and ended up clear over at the Zabinis'!"

"Ah, then that was probably the case. I must ready the shop, so if you'll excuse me-"

"Hold on, Mr. Riddle."

_Drat. _"Yes?"

"I'm hear to tell you about a new law of the ministry's. Have you heard anything of a marriage law?"

"A few rumors, but nothing beyond town talk."

"There's a new law going out. Any bachelors or bachelorettes under thirty are to marry before the end of the year- it's an effort to get the population back to what it was. I'm required to ask if you have anybody in mind."

"Not as of current."

"Then take this." he handed over a half dozen yellow pieces of paper inquiring questions about his likes and dislikes. It looked, for all purposes, like a form for the personals section of the Daily Prophet.

"The ministry has started a blind date program. All of the information is on those pages. We'll need it back by tomorrow or the day after at the latest. Now, I must be off. Good day."

With that, he left.

The minute the man was out of ear distance, Tom dropped the facade and started cursing up a storm. He knew the ministry was full of idiots and brown nosers, but did they honestly expect something like this to _work_? It was like they were trying to act as ludicrous as possible.

The whole idea sounded like one big doxie shoot. A whole lot of idiots running around like chickens with their heads cut off and trying to do the task at hand. The whole thing almost sounded like something out of a fluff novel.

Yet, none the less, he couldn't chance the ministry figuring out he had anything to hide. One thing would lead to another, and soon enough he'd find himself in a trial or Azkaban. He needed to stay under the radar, and he didn't have near the influence for a cover up (especially not one the size of the chamber of secrets).

No, he'd play their game until he found a loophole or other way out. If necessary, he could move out of England until the law was amended. But he hoped it wouldn't come to that- he needed to keep an eye on his horcruxes, plus he had a well built reputation as a good doer. But if push came to shove, he could gather the horcruxes and start over.

Realizing that this kind of thinking would be aimless until he had more information, he started on the forms. Maybe one of his school cohorts had found a way to weasel out- he'd have to owl them. Perhaps he could even get hold of Cygnus Black- the man had tried to get chummy at Hogwarts, perhaps he still sought friendship.

and so began the carefully laid plans of Tom Riddle Jr.


	3. The Decision

DISCLAIMER: Forgot this. I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the affiliated names.

Deciding that it'd probably be for the best in regards to his concentration, Tom decided not to open the shop that day. Instead, he grabbed a quill and a few pieces of parchment from behind the cashier's desk. He then started writing down different ideas he had about how best to avoid the new law and who would be helpful to him. The main question in his mind was whether to simply negate it from himself or nullify it completely.

Negating, while easier, was also a wasted opportunity. Nullifying it would spread his resources thinly, but it would also help the blood cleansing, which would gain him strong allies should they be needed. After a bit of pondering, he decided to try nullification.

After an hour of brainstorming, Tom had come up with a handful of people that might be of aid to- mostly slytherins of esteemed families that he'd known from various places, plus a couple of contacts. But still, it was a tad more people than he was comfortable with letting in on anything, even something so ultimately benign. He needed to weed out the possible liabilities.

"_After all,"_ he mused, _"A chain is only as strong as its weakest link."_

He set aside the list to inspect the half dozen yellow papers that he'd slammed onto the display table after the grunt had left. It would be of use to him to read them to collect information as soon as possible. The more he knew, the better he'd know who would be the best suited. 'Know thy enemy' was just as justifiable a statement as ever.

Plus, if he wanted to keep the operation under cover, he'd need to avoid any suspicious activity.

The first page was a form for general information- birth day, age, things of that variety. Although country of residence had given him pause- just how far had this thing spread? It had to be a large operation, with a large number of participants for them to need to know about it.

They could use translator ink so that all languages could read and answer, and then get the country from the answering language. But, if it were an especially large number, large enough that nomads were taken into account, it might be necessary.

However, a large number of participants also meant that it was being manned by someone of high rank, who couldn't be questioned lightly (else such an idea would have been scrapped early on). He could also deduce that they were probably married or otherwise engaged, and were either a proud idiot or playing puppet under another. The first seemed much more likely, as such a program would provide little gain to anyone involved.

Writing down all of these conclusions on a piece of scrap parchment, he continued onto the next page, a list of favorites. Rolling his eyes, he wrote down answers you'd expect of an normal, above averagely intelligence person.

He continued onto the next page, and then the next. As he went along, he wrote down notes regarding conclusions he could draw. After he sent the blasted thing, he wouldn't be able to extract more information, and ministry papers were always immune to copying spells for security reasons.

It was on the fifth paper that he realized that, by the by, the questions weren't actually all together mindless. Yes, there was the occasional 'zodiac symbol' type question, but by the by, they seemed to be genuine questions one might ask on, say, a date. So they must have some kind of brains in the mix, otherwise it would be a mound of dribble. Resources were being pulled in, so it was taken being seriously by somebody. That, or there were bribes involved. Possibly both.

If there were people on the inside who weren't completely dedicated to upholding the cause, then they'd be best to talk to, as they'd know the most about the inner workings.

Reaching for his list of names, he looked them over for any high ranking, somewhat intelligent ministry officials who might be willing to help. He came up with two- 'Leo Malfoy' and 'Cygnus Black' .

Both were the heads of rich, influential, pureblood families. Both, while head steadfast in their beliefs, were well versed in what was and wasn't a good idea. In other words, if given the right incentive, either one could help.

After all, in their positions, both would be all for Slytherin's cause of cleansing the magical world, and this law would hinder the cleanse by pressuring pureblooded heirs into marrying before a suitable spouse could be found. A generation could be wasted, and with muggleborns as prevalent as ever, any hindrance was a major one. Surely there'll be in for sabotage of the system, and he knew just how to play the right keys to get in on it. Perhaps he could even maintain ties afterward- a few good connections never hurt.

Smirking, he started writing a pair of letters. Undermining the ministry, gaining new allies... Illegal activities could be so much fun.


End file.
